


Champagne and Flowers

by sumhowe_sailing



Series: rafflesweek2018 [7]
Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Angst, M/M, some fluff but mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 20:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13983066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumhowe_sailing/pseuds/sumhowe_sailing
Summary: For the prompt "The Ides of March"[Same story as last year, but this time from Raffles POV]





	Champagne and Flowers

Perhaps fate had been kind to him after all, to put him so suddenly in the way of an old school friend he hadn’t seen in so long. The man who had been such a timid boy had still seemed such a nervous rabbit at the card tables. Raffles had taken little notice of him throughout their game. He was too busy calculating the sum of his debts and all the houses in London that could pay for them and, most importantly, how many of those houses he could tackle alone. He dealt another hand, looked at the duds, and added another fifty pounds to the bill. As he waved the last guest away, he was narrowing his options down to two houses. Both a difficult crib, both far from the Albany—a long night no matter what he did. He had almost decided and was about to gather the necessaries when his old school friend turned up at his door again. He didn’t have time for this, but he welcomed him in all the same.

He paced, contemplative, as his guest tried to explain what dire straits he was in, and how ashamed he was, and how Raffles must help him. Well, he knew he was a good actor, and here’s what came of it. He let his mask slip only enough to let Bunny see he was serious when he said he was just as hard up himself. And yet… and yet hadn’t it been this same Bunny who’d once been so staunchly faithful? Who’d stood by and helped the young A.J. to get away with all his misdeeds. He was just the sort of man Raffles needed now. If only he could turn back the wheels of time, reestablish that loyalty, if only he could know Bunny’s nerves hadn’t been broken by the shock his sudden wealth and sudden poverty had put him through. Then Fate, kind, devilish Fate, stepped in. As Bunny pulled the pistol from his pocket and raised it to his temple, Raffles couldn’t help thinking _By Jove! He’s the very man for me._

 

~~~

 

He was brooding again when the knock came quite unexpectedly at the door. The sight that met him when he opened it knocked the scowl from his face more quickly than he could have imagined; for there stood Bunny, looking sheepishly at him with a basket of champagne on one arm and a bouquet of lilies in the other.

“Well, my rabbit, what’s all this?” he asked as he ushered Bunny inside.

Bunny blushed harder and fumbled his way through what would have been a beautiful speech about the value of their friendship and his gratitude for the year they had spent together, more or less. As he spoke, Raffles felt as though a fist were wrapping round his heart. Here he had been, wondering if it weren’t too late to make more of his life, wondering what the point of it all was—and there was Bunny. Alive because he’d put his faith in such a false idol, an idol who, it must seem now, thought so little of him he hadn’t even noticed the day or done anything to mark it. An idol, moreover, who apparently couldn’t even listen to such a heartfelt and obviously difficult confession from his idolater. He didn’t realize Bunny had finished and he’d left him in silence until Bunny began to apologize.

“Hush, Bunny, hush. I—,” Raffles cut himself off, took a deep breath, and began again. “I was only thinking how sorry I am that I let the day slip away without getting anything to show my regard for our partnership.”

Bunny smiled hesitantly, perhaps wanting to believe him and not quite able, and offered the flowers to Raffles. Forcing everything else to shadows of his mind, Raffles smiled as he took them, determined that they should enjoy this night.

 

 

~~~

 

He was awake long before Bunny began to stir drowsily in his arms. He had almost left town a few days ago, until realizing that the ides were fast approaching and he _couldn’t_ let the day slip by again. He had rearranged all his plans, slipped something nice into his pocket, and invited Bunny to spend the night just so they could wake up in each other’s arms this morning. He was happy here, in this warm bubble, so isolated from the rest of the world. Happy. It was a rare thing for him. He did not want to ride that train of thought further; to distract himself, he pressed a kiss to Bunny’s temple and murmured, “Good morning, my darling rabbit.”

“Good morning, love.”

They spent the day together. They had a slow morning in bed, a long walk after lunch, a lovely supper, and then a beautiful evening in the Albany. Bunny had ordered champagne and flowers again; when he handed Raffles a single white rose, Raffles responded by slipping the box from his pocket and handing it wordlessly to Bunny. It was a simple gold tie pin, wrought in the shape of a rabbit.

“Oh, Raffles, it’s beautiful!” he gasped.

“Happy anniversary, Bunny.” It was not all he wanted to say, nowhere near, but it would have to do.

 

~~~

 

The sun was glorious as it danced over the sea. Somewhere not far from here was the most beautiful woman Raffles had ever seen—a woman he might just spend the rest of his life with. Yet as the fifteenth of March slipped away, dying with the sun, he sat upon the cliff’s edge, gazing back towards the place he had called home for so long. That way, so very, very far away, lay another. Raffles had no way of knowing what Bunny was doing at that moment. Dining with a new loved one? Drinking himself into oblivion? Languishing in jail for the sins of the man he’d so rashly given his life to? Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, Raffles hoped, desperately, selfishly, that Bunny was thinking of him. That he had flowers and champagne to keep him company until Raffles came back. If indeed he ever did.

 

~~~

 

“Raffles?”

“Mmm?” He responded, turning to nuzzle Bunny’s shoulder. He was more asleep than awake at this point, but this was a golden day for confessions between them. Whatever it was Bunny wanted to say, however tired he was, he would stay awake to hear it. How many midnight revelations had he deprived his rabbit of simply by not coming home sooner? He owed him this much at least. And yet, though he waited patiently, Bunny said not a word. He could feel Bunny tensing, could practically feel the panic rolling through him. He pulled Bunny a little closer, a silent gesture of support.

 “Bunny? What is it?”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

 

~~~

 

He hadn’t realized how many flowers thrive in the cold, muddy late-winter weeks until he stood in the study window watching his rabbit pick a bouquet fit for royalty. He was so happy, down there. After everything, he could still be so happy. What a gift Fate had given him when she’d led Bunny back into Raffles’ life all those years ago. Who would he have been without his dear Bunny? Who would have noticed when he’d gone? As he watched, Bunny abandoned the flowers for a moment, stood to stretch his back. Catching sight of Raffles watching him, Bunny grinned and waved. Raffles smiled back.

Later, once the flowers had been beautifully arranged in their parlor, they rode their bikes to town to get the crowning piece of the day – the champagne. What an excellent choice Bunny had made when he’d begun this little tradition! How grateful Raffles was for the excuse to pamper him for just one day. He insisted Bunny choose the bottles. Laughing together over some delightful nothing, they rode back to Ham Common, champagne bottles rattling in the basket on their bikes. They let it sit, but not long enough. When Raffles opened the first bottle, it practically exploded, spraying everywhere and drenching them both.  It was unintentional, but what a marvelous opportunity it created. He stepped forward, taking Bunny in his arms and kissing away the sweet mess from Bunny’s face. It wasn’t enough, it could never be enough, but he didn’t know how else to show Bunny how deeply he cared for him. He pulled away, smiling. “An excellent vintage, Bunny, well chosen.”

 

~~~

 

If there had been a grave to bring flowers to, they would have found their way there today. A libation would have been poured upon it. A confession made. But there was no grave. No flowers. No champagne. Nothing but a man, worn thin with hardship and suffering, wandering the streets, talking to the spirit of the man who had changed his life so many times in so many ways. Whether that spirit heard him, whether it ever spoke back, who can say?


End file.
